Skin And Bones
by JoeNobody
Summary: Sometimes you have to go where the case takes you... even if that means leaving the things you care about behind. Such as, say, your pants.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It had been a quiet week at the Jeffersonian Institute. For once, the FBI (in the person of Special Agent Seeley Booth) hadn't burst in and hijacked the staff's attention and efforts for the latest bizarre crime. And Dr. Camille Saroyan had seized the opportunity with both hands, sending Dr. Brennan down to Limbo (a term Brennan despised and Saroyan had resented at first, but gradually accepted) with her intern of the week. Dr. Hodgins, after his latest experimental mishap, was on "janitor duty," cleaning the hell out of his own lab - Cam had specifically ordered the custodial staff to not enter his lab this entire week. And Angela was basically doodling and killing time in her office; Cam had told her to enjoy a few days of goofing off and playing with her imaging equipment. Cam rationalized that letting - no, encouraging - no, ordering - Angela to experiment with her gear with no pressure to produce anything and not related to any cases would be likely to trigger her creative impulses and figure out new ways to work with it.

But all good things, alas, must come to an end. Booth strode through the doors. Hey, Bones! We got a case!" He looked around at the empty lab. Not a single squint in sight. Nor was Bones in her office. Fortunately, Angela was, and she pointed Booth down to Limbo.

BB BB BB BB BB

"...So, Mr. Bray, what can you tell me about these remains?"

"Well, it's male, about 170 centimeters in height, and age approximately 30 at time of death. Reports indicate he was recovered from the Gettysburg historical battle site, indicating a high probability he was a soldier killed in the battle. Age testing confirms that he died approximately 150 years ago, consistent with that theory, and gross physical examination are also consistent - he was male of the right age, and showed no injuries or deformities that would have disqualified him from military service. The primary perimortem injury is to the spine, also consistent with a musket ball or rifle round."

"Very good, Mr. Bray. Could you elaborate on the damage to the vertebrae?"

"The injuries are to the..."

"Hey, Bones! You free? Great, we got a case."

Bones looked up at Booth, her exasperation clear. "Booth, please show a modicum of respect. These are likely the remains of a Civil War veteran." Bones was no expert on psychology, but she knew that Booth held a great deal of reverence for his fellow veterans.

"Geez, I'm sorry... but we have a case. Can you wrap this up and get back upstairs? We're gonna need Angela and Hodgins on this one, too."

Bones considered the matter. "Mr. Bray, please replace these remains. We'll continue later." She turned back to Booth. "I presume the body is upstairs?"

Booth smiled mischievously. "Nope."

"Well, when will it be delivered?"

"No body this time, Bones."

"You mean you are trying to get me involved on a murder case before you recover any remains?"

Booth smiled wider. "No bodies, Bones. For once, we got a case that doesn't have a murder." He turned back towards the elevator. "I'll go get Hodgins and Angela. We'll be waiting for you in Angela's office."

Bones grumbled. The man was so damned exasperating sometimes. She stripped off her gloves. "Mr. Bray, I've changed my mind. You can stay here and continue your examination of these remains, and report to me your findings, or you can accompany me upstairs to hear about this case of Booth's - which apparently does not involve a corpse for us to examine."

Wendell considered the matter. "Agent Booth is quite intelligent - despite what he lets on - and I don't think he'd bring us a case where he didn't think we could contribute. And while staying here would be more in line with my studies, I find myself intrigued about how Agent Booth thinks we could help in a case with no body."

Brennan had to admit to herself that the intern's reasoning paralleled her own. And while she thought using her and the Jeffersonian for a case not as important as a murder, it might be refreshing to work on a case with less pressure. "Very well, then. Let's put this gentleman back, then see what Booth has for us."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's notes:_

_1) Yes, this is the same case I referred to in the "Nudity" and "Sand" chapters in my "Alphabet Soup" series._

_2) Yes, the skeleton in Chapter 1 is the same from the "Yearning" chapter of the same story. I put too much thought into it to let it go._

_3) I intend to use those prior chapters while writing this story, but I will not be completely bound by them. I will probably rewrite those two chapters to make it fit the longer story._

_4) There will be naughty humor, but no smut. Sorry, I feel more whimsical than frisky this time._

_5) Reviews and comments are fuel for the writer's ego, and keep him writing. _

**Chapter 2**

"All right, Booth, just what kind of case do you have for us? Jaywalking? Grafitti? Some Congressional littering scandal? Just what's so important?"

Booth cocked an eyebrow. "Bank robbery, actually. And a particularly nasty one. So far, he's wounded four people in three robberies - luckily, he hasn't killed anyone so far, so no bodies for you, but we want this guy bad."

Bones quickly got serious. "All right, this is a serious case. But I don't understand how we can be of help without a body."

"I said we don't have a body, but we do have evidence." He held up his briefcase. "And the FBI's lab hasn't been able to get anything out of it. I'm hoping you folks can pry something out of it the in-house squints missed." He put the case on the table, opened it, and pulled out a CD and a bagged shoe. "The CD has all the surveillance video we have of him, and the shoe... well, let's just play the video." He handed the CD to Angela, who popped it into her computer. "Play the one marked 'ATM,' please, Ange."

The Angelator flickered, then started playing. The video was the typical jerky, low-resolution clip one usually got from security cameras. It showed the view from the front of the bank. After several seconds, a running figure entered the view and started running across the street - only to be struck by a car. The blow was a glancing one, though, and the runner got back to his feet and resumed fleeing - albeit more slowly and with a decided limp.

As the video ended, Booth resumed speaking. "And that's how we got the shoe - the impact knocked it right off him, and he didn't bother to pick it back up. If you watch the rest of the videos, you'll see him shooting those three people I mentioned - in each case, he fires twice in short succession. That's why the initial investigating agents nicknamed him 'Double-Tap Donny.' He also shoots to wound, not to kill, but one nearly bled out and another will never regain full use of his leg. This guy's a particularly nasty piece of work, and we want him before he actually does kill someone."

Bones nodded. "He's not as vicious as a lot of the other people we've captured, but I can see your concerns. And I can see how Hodgins and Angela can help you, but where do I come in?"

Booth nodded. "Remember that case with the bounty hunters? You saw Braverman take that fall, and diagnosed his injury and predicted that he'd need medical attention. I figure you can take a good look at that video and maybe tell us just what happened to him when he was hit by that car."

"I see. Also, in that video, he was wearing a mask. I'm presuming that you have no video of his face, making identification difficult?"

"You got it. I tell you, this guy's good."

"I'll have to work with Angela, but I think that if she can enhance the videos a bit, I might be able to help you there, too. From that video, he appears to have somewhat unusual bodily proportions. If we can clear it up, we might be able to get some distinguishing physical characteristics."

"There, you see? You don't always need a corpse to help."

"That was never the question, Booth. I know my own abilities, as well as that of the rest of the team. The question is whether or not we could be of assistance, but whether this was worth our time and effort. And I have to say that I think this case is."

Hodgins interrupted them. "If you don't mind, I'll just take that shoe. I think there are all sorts of things it can tell me under my instruments." With that, he took the shoe and left for his own lab.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Booth was just getting into his SUV when his phone rang. It was Bones, telling him to skip going to the Hoover - she and Hodgins had some answers for him.

Booth strolled into the main lab, and was pleased to see the entire team awaiting him. He held the FBI lab's reports in his briefcase, but he knew the scientists here liked to go into a case "cold." Only after they'd done their work would they look at the FBI's reports, to see if they missed anything. It didn't happen that often.

In this case, there wasn't much. The shoe was almost brand-new, so there wasn't much to go on, and the video was predictably poor.

"Booth! Let's go to Angela's office. I think you'll be most impressed." Bones was oddly gleeful; he attributed it to working on a case where there was a chance of not avenging a death, but preventing one.

"First up, the video. I believe that our suspect is familiar with surveillance cameras and their limitations; he never stands fully upright or walks naturally. Even with Angela's best efforts, we can only approximate his height to between 170 and 190 centimeters - that would be between 5'10" and 6'3". And his clothing is bulky enough to disguise his weight." Booth nodded. That jibed with the FBI's own findings. "But one thing that he did not disguise was his bodily proportions."

Booth was confused. "Huh?"

Booth smiled. "The subject has disproportionately long forearms and shins - not abnormally so, to the point of having a technical deformity, but definitely on the high side of average. To the casual observer, he might appear slightly... I believe the term is 'gangly' - but to a trained observer, it's quite noticeable."

Booth studied the image once more and nodded. He didn't see it, himself, but he knew better than to question Bones on such matters. "And the injury? When he got hit by the car?"

"Also quite distinguishing. The car was a 2007 Ford Fusion. The reports on the car's damage indicated that he was struck by the fender and right-side rear view mirror. From the car's known dimensions, we can confirm the projected height. Further, I am confident that his left hip and knee were severely bruised, and possibly slightly dislocated. He will be limping for at least a week after the injury - two, if he fails to seek medical attention. Once we've located him, he should be fairly easy to identify."

Hodgins took that as his cue. "And that's where the shoe comes in. It's a cheap shoe, the kind you buy for 30 bucks or so at Wal-Mart. Considering how smart this guy has been so far, I bet he buys the shoes, wears them until the robbery, then throws them away after to get rid of potential evidence. In this case, though, we got the shoe - and it's told me a great deal."

Booth was growing impatient. This was good information - far better than the FBI lab had come up with - but he could tell when they were showing off. "Like what?"

"Like where our boy has been spending his time. In the sole and interior, I found traces of silica, plant matter, and bird droppings."

Booth knew what that meant. "Sea bird droppings?" Hodgins just nodded. "So he spends his time on the beach. But which one?"

"It turns out that that particular combination of sand composition, plant life, and species of gull are pretty specific to only four beaches on the East Coast. And as this last robbery was in Maryland, that rules it down to just one in four hundred miles of the Atlantic seaboard." He smiled smugly. "Our boy likes to spend his time on the Assateague Island National Seashore."

Booth was thrilled. "That's great." He checked his watch. "Damn, that's at least a four-hour drive. So, Bones, wanna go play on the beach?" He grinned. This will be great. We get to spend a couple of days playing on the beach in the line of duty."

Bones smiled. "That does sound like a pleasant change of pace. I'll go home and pack up for a couple of days if necessary."

"Um... guys..." Hodgins interrupted, a sly smile creeping across his face. "One more detail you might want to know before you head out there."

Booth was in no mood for Hodgins ruining his working vacation. "What is it? Mutant killer crabs? Deadly beetles? Toxic beach sludge?"

"Oh, nothing that unpleasant. It's just that it's a nude beach."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Booth slammed his fist into his palm in frustration. "A nude beach. Great. How the hell am I supposed to arrest him there?"

Bones looked puzzled. "I don't see the problem, Booth. We've gone to a great many unusual places to apprehend suspects. What's the problem here?"

Hodgins couldn't help himself. "Well, for starters, where would he keep his gun and badge?"

Angela had to chime in. "I have one suggestion for how he could carry his handcuffs…"

Booth shot them both a glare. "You two perverts keep out of it."

Hodgins put his arm around Angela. "We aren't perverts, we're married."

"Fine, you're married perverts. Just shut up." They looked at each other and shrugged. They could live with that.

"As I was saying, Bones, I am NOT taking you to a nude beach so you can scope out naked men in front of me. We'll find some other way to nail him."

"Booth, you're being ridiculous. Let's be honest – I'm the only person who could identify the suspect based on what we have."

"No, you aren't." Booth looked around frantically. "Wendell – you could ID the guy, right?"

The intern knew better than to get between the two. He stepped back. "Sorry, Agent Booth, but my job description does not include 'getting naked in public with male FBI agents.'"

Booth turned towards Cam. "Don't even think about it, Seeley. Even if I could identify him, you are not getting me on to a nude beach."

Bones folded her arms. "Booth, just admit it. I'm the only one who can make the identification. Here, let me prove it to you." She turned towards the other two men. "Dr. Hodgins, Mr. Bray, would you kindly step behind that screen and remove your shirts?"

"Hey, I thought I just said…" Wendell started to protest.

Jack took the intern's elbow and tugged him towards the screen. "Come on, kid. If you haven't learned your lesson by now on when to just shut up and go along with her, you have no business working here."

"Bones, what the hell are you doing?"

"Making my point, Booth." She turned towards the screen. "Are your shirts removed?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Now, I want each of you to extend one arm out from behind the screen, one on each side. And be careful to not let any of the rest of your bodies show."

Two bare arms poked out from behind the screen. "Now, Booth, you know both Dr. Hodgins and Mr. Bray fairly well. Can you tell me whose arm is whose?"

"What? Of course not."

"That's my point, Booth. Dr. Hodgins is slightly shorter and has pronounced body hair. So that is his arm to our left. Mr. Bray is taller and younger, and has better skin tone – that is his arm on the right. Gentlemen, please demonstrate to Agent Booth that I am correct." Both hands flashed into thumbs-up gestures. "Now, are you convinced, or should I have them remove their pants and prove it again with their legs?"

Wendell's "No!" was drowned out by Agnela's eager "Yes!"

Hodgins answered her from behind the screen. "Not helping, honey."

"Gentlemen, thank you. You may put your shirts back on." Angela sighed her disappointment. "Now, Booth, are you convinced that it has to be me to identify the suspect?"

"Yeah, but… geez…"

"I understand you are somewhat disabled by the nudity taboo – probably as an outgrowth of your Catholic upbringing – but we have little choice in this matter here. Or would you prefer that I go and apprehend the suspect alone? I think I would appreciate the chance to test my abilities in such circumstances."

"What? No! You're not going there by yourself!"

"Then, perhaps, you would recommend another agent to accompany me. I understand Sully has returned to active duty; he would probably enjoy the chance to go along. Or perhaps Andrew – he's often expressed dissatisfaction with his office duties, and spoken of occasionally returning to the field." Bones knew it was unfair to bring up the two other agents she'd dated, but she had to make her point here.

"Absolutely not! Both of them would kill for a chance to see you naked, and they'd never take their eyes off you."

"Then, perhaps, we could bring in Agent Perrotta. Would you find it less threatening if I were accompanied by another woman?"

"Threatening? I'm not threatened by…" he sighed. He knew when he was beaten. "Fine, I'll clear it with the Bureau, and we'll head out this afternoon. Pick you up here around 1?"

Bones considered it. "That should be fine, but make it at my apartment. I'll take my car home and throw together what I'll need. We can eat lunch, then head out."

Booth sighed. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining this one to his bosses. And he knew it would be a long time before he heard the end of it at work.

"Oh, and Booth?"

"Yeah," he said, turning back from the door?"

She smiled. "Be sure to bring plenty of sunscreen."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The drive down to the Outer Banks had not gone well. Bones had tried to lecture Booth on how to identify the suspect, but Booth pointed out that the distinctions were the sort of thing one needed to see, not hear about, and there was a decided lack of visual aids while speeding down the highway. Bones had fired up her laptop to give him some examples, but Booth had shot that down - he did NOT need to be studying images of (hopefully only mostly) undressed men while driving at 70 MPH, and no, he wasn't going to let Bones drive. Finally, she adjourned to the rear seat and resumed work on her latest novel, while he played with the radio.

The hotel was nicer than Booth expected. But there was a problem; they didn't have a record of his reservation. Apparently the travel folks at the FBI had messed up.

"No they didn't, Booth. Check under 'Brennan." The clerk quickly smiled and confirmed the reservation. "At the last rest stop, I called ahead and booked this one. I've had quite enough of what the FBI considers 'adequate' for its agents and consultants."

"Here you go, Dr. Brennan. It's room 314."

"One room, Bones? What the hell?"

"We'll discuss this upstairs, Booth." She then turned to the elevator, bag over her shoulder. He sighed and followed her.

Once the door closed, though, he let loose. "One room? Were they booked up? I had two rooms for us."

"Booth, tomorrow morning we're going to be entering an environment where unbonded men are discouraged and ostracized. The most common and insconspicuous unit is the male-female pairing. And if we are to pull that off successfully, we must give off the subconscious cues of a pair-bond - and that includes a certain level of comfort and familiarity. Sharing a room the night before will increase our chances of passing as a couple." She looked around the room, then turned back to him. "I considered ordering a room with a single bed, but I believed that would provoke a major confrontation with you." She looked again at the two beds. "Although I believe that either bed would be sufficient for both of us, if you would like to..."

Booth responded by tossing his bag on one of the beds. "That one's mine." He pointed at the other. "And that one's yours."

Bones shrugged and started unpacking. "I'm feeling a bit tired and hungry after the trip. Would you prefer a nap, or dinner?"

"Dinner, I think." He poked through the menus the hotel had thoughtfully provided. I wonder if there's any good Thai places down here."

"Actually, I happen to know of a superb Chinese place with a buffet that features some truly excellent vegetarian dishes not far from here. Plus, it's fairly near a mall. We can go there and I can show you how to look for our suspect."

"People-watching at the mall? Sounds kinda boring, Bones."

"I considered a local strip club, but rejected it.""

Booth muttered to himself. "Thank heavens for small favors."

"I didn't reject it on the basis of doing you a favor, Booth. I simply didn't think it would be productive. For one, the exposed bodies would be women, not men. For another, I suspect your attention would be focused on other portions of their bodies than the proportions of their arms and legs. Finally, the previous time I accompanied you to such a place, you seemed exceptionally embarassed by my presence and your entirely-natural physiological response to..."

"OK, we'll go to the mall - after we eat. But how do you know the area so well?"

"I've been here before. It's a very beautiful beach, and the nudist subculture is a fascinating subject. The banishment of the nudity taboo has led to a rise of other taboos - the social disapproval of any sort of overt sexuality, for one. Even what would be considered mild flirting among the 'textiles' leads to the shunning of the individuals. Even staring obviously is a violation of the norms. And the significance of the towel is endlessly fascinating - what carrying it in various ways signifies, when and how to place it upon seats, the use of it as a fashion statement and status indicator..."

"So, you're saying that the alpha of the nudist colony is the hoopiest frood who really knows where his towel is?"

"I have no idea what that means, but I presume that it is some obscure cultural reference that you brought up because it refers to towels."

"Yeah, pretty much." Booth sighed; they'd both finished unpacking. "So, ready for a lovely evening of Chinese buffet and people-watching at the mall?"

"Seeley Booth, you certainly know how to show a girl a good time."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The people-watching hadn't lasted too long; the food had been as good as Bones had promised, and both were tired from the trip. Bones wondered if the strip club might have been a better idea after all; Booth's arousal would have kept him alert later, and her own enjoyment of his embarrassment would have done the same for her. Plus, she found the behavior of men – and, occasionally, women – in such places fascinating.

"All right, Bones, let's hit the sack. We got a long day of work ahead tomorrow. Man, its' gonna be tough duty at the beach, with… WHOA!"

"What's the problem, Booth?" Bones answered, shrugging out of her blouse. "I'm tired, and I want to get to sleep."

Booth hastily retreated into the bathroom, where he very slowly disrobed, making sure to give Bones plenty of time to finish undressing and get into her bed. At that point he made a most unfortunate discovery: he'd not planned on this coed sleepover when he'd dressed for work that morning, and was wearing his prized, lucky "Rooster" boxers. He sighed. Maybe Bones would be asleep, or at least have the lights out when he emerged.

No such luck. She was sitting up in bed, typing away at her laptop. She'd also neglected to pack any sleepwear. At least, any that covered her from her waist up.

Booth quickly averted his eyes and practically dove into the bed. The words flew out of his mouth. "You're right Bones. Long day today, long day tomorrow, better get plenty of sleep, good night!" He rolled over, his back to her, and pulled the covers high.

Bones snorted to herself. "Ooh, look at the big, tough FBI agent and former Army Ranger, terrified of a simple pair of breasts." Booth studiedly ignored her. "Booth, would it help if I promised you they weren't loaded?" She snickered. "If I'd known they were this dangerous, maybe I should register them with the FBI." Booth tried not to groan. "Hey, Booth, can you help me get an FBI permit for these?" She continued giggling. "I think I need some new holsters. Can we swing by Victoria's Secret on the way to the beach tomorrow?"

"Good night Bones."

"Good night, Booth." She turned out the light. "Oh, one more."

"Fine, get it out of your system."

She started laughing. "You have the right to remain…" at that point she dissolved in laughter, and never finished the joke.

BB BB BB BB BB

Booth awoke to a firm slap on his butt. "Get up, Booth. The shower's all yours." Booth cautiously peeked open a single eye. It took him a minute to focus, but it looked safe. Bones' face still had a few droplets of water on it, and her hair was securely wrapped in a towel. Further down, he could see a second towel around her torso.

"Thanks, I think I forgot to set an alarm." He crawled out of bed and headed for the dresser. "The hotel has a free continental breakfast, but would you rather go out and get something real?"

"There's a really good pancake place about a mile up the road, towards the beach. But as good as the pancakes are, the omelets are amazing."

"Sounds good. Lemme just get a quick shower, and we'll be on our way. Booth picked out his clothes for the trip – some baggy swim trunks and a Hawaiian shirt – and turned towards the bathroom.

"Oh, and Booth?" He turned around just as she dropped the towel. "BOOBS!"

She cackled in glee as he slammed the bathroom door behind him. "You're going to be pathetic on the beach, Booth!"

BB BB BB BB BB

"You're right, Bones, that was a GREAT omelet!" Booth said as he set down his fork. "I almost want another one."

"I think it's something about the ocean air that makes all foods taste better. But that can't account for all of it - I have to give the cooks considerable credit." 

"Either way, if we don't leave now, I'll never want to leave. Besides, we still have more driving to go."

Bones shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I've been giving the matter considerable thought, and I think we need to balance our time hunting for the suspect against our own personal safety."

"Bones, we're gonna be busting the guy when he's stark naked. I don't see him posing much of a threat."

"OK, first up, you need to get that word out of your vocabulary. It's not 'naked,' it's 'nude' or 'natural.' The word 'naked' carries with it connotations of shame, and it's seriously frowned upon where we're going."

"Fair enough."

"And second, I wasn't referring to danger from the suspect, but from the sun. Even though we both brought plenty of sunscreen, our skins aren't used to the UV exposure we'll be getting. Weighing exposure against the peak times of attendance on the beach, I anticipate that if we work the beach from 10:00 to 1:00, take an hour away for lunch, and return from 1:00 to 3:00, we'll strike the optimum odds of catching the suspect."

"You've really put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" he said admiringly.

She smiled. "We're in an environment where you have no expertise, and I do. Much like the time we were in London. So I take it as a personal responsibility to prepare us for the best use of our time."

Booth nodded. "I am placing myself completely at your disposal." He caught the glint in her eye, and quickly modified his statement. "But no, you can't have a gun."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As they approached the parking lot, Bones explained how they would handle things. "We'll park at the north end of the beach. I will go ahead, walking down the beach between the sunbathers and the water, looking for our suspect. You will follow me, about five to ten meters behind, at my pace. You will NOT gawk at any of the women or glare at any of the men - in fact, you should probably keep your sunglasses on the whole time. Watch my left hand - when I see a likely suspect, I will point down with a single finger. If I believe I have identified him, I will point down with two fingers." She demonstrated. "If I sit down on the beach, walk past me and sit beside me, closer to the water's edge, so when we converse, you can look past me to see the suspect."

Booth nodded. That made a lot of sense. Apparently Bones had done some prep work for this assignment. "And when you're certain you've identified him?"

"We will converse briefly, then you will act as if you forgot something in the car. I will stay and keep him under surveillance while you go and retrieve your badge and cuffs. And if he tries to leave, I will approach him and persuade him to stick around long enough for you to return."

That made sense. Even in his baggy trunks, his badge and cuffs would be quite noticeable - never mind his gun. His SUV had a lockbox with a combination for just such situations. "How are you planning on doing that?"

Bones merely smiled. "I am, objectively speaking, a very attractive woman. Unless our suspect is homosexual - and I put the odds of that at slightly less than five percent - I am confident I can keep his attention for the few minutes it takes you to return."

Booth realized she had everything covered. "I just get the funny feeling that this is all a prank of Hodgins'. If it is, I swear I'll shoot him."

Bones nodded. "I can see Angela egging him on in such an endeavor, but I am quite certain that his report was accurate."

"How are you so sure?"

"For one, Cam was present. She is already displeased with him after his last lab mishap, and he would not risk incurring more of her wrath with such a prank. For another, I suspected such a thing and double-checked his findings against that of the FBI lab - and while they did not make the same connections he did, they were congruent with his findings. For a third, he did not have time to fabricate his findings adequately. And finally, I informed Angela that if this was a prank, wasting my and your time like this, I would not only provide you with an alibi for shooting Hodgins, I would also provide the bullet."

Booth was even more impressed. He pulled into a vacant parking space. "Whoa, good-sized crowd here today. That means a lot of suspects to look through."

Bones nodded. "On the other hand, it increases the chances that our suspect will be here. The increased sampling will mean more effort." They each climbed out of the SUV, and circled to the rear. Booth popped the liftgate, and discreetly placed his badge, gun, and handcuffs in the lockbox welded to the side of the cargo area. "Combination's 066."

"I presume that number has some significance to you?"

"'Mario Lemieux.'"

I don't know what that means."

"'Mario Lemieux. It was his number for the Penguins."

"I presume that he was a hockey player?"

"He was... never mind. Yeah. Hockey player." He shucked his shirt into the SUV, then sat down on the lift to remove his shoes and socks. "We should probably lotion up before we hit the beach." He looked up just as Bones zipped up her duffel bag. "I really don't want to get sunbur... WHOA!"

"What?"

"Sorry, Bones. But you're naked."

"I thought we established the term was 'nude,' Booth. And yes, I am - except for my sun hat and sandals. As we've been discussing for the past day."

"I... I just... he turned his back and set his shoes and socks in the back, then took his towel. "Yeah, but that was... well, that was just talk. This... this is real." He said, facing away.

"Booth, turn around."

"No, I'm good."

"Seeley Joseph Booth, turn around right this minute and look at me!" Booth hated that voice of hers. It was half his mother, half his worst drill sergeant. He whipped around, keeping his eyes focused on her face. Her face, and nowhere else.

"In just a few moments, you and I will be walking up and down this beach. We will walk the full length of the beach and back, if necessary, and repeat it until we identify our suspect, or are convinced he is not here. We will be doing so in full view of experienced nudists, who are quite proficient at identifying and ostracizing non-nudists here purely for prurient interest. Our lack of all-over tans already puts us at a considerable disadvantage. If you spend all your time glaring at the men, gawking at the women, and sneaking peeks at me, we will never find our suspect."

Booth had to admit that she made a lot of sense.

"So, Booth, look at me. Look at me all over, for as long as necessary. I am not ashamed of my body; in fact, I am quite proud of it. You will not shame me. I have a woman's body, and you are quite familiar with women's bodies; I have nothing unusual or distinct from any of the other women you've seen nude in the past. I need you to get as comfortable with my nude appearance as possible, so we can blend in as well as possible with the people on this beach, and not stick out like injured thumbs."

"Sore thumbs."

"Whatever, Booth. Just get it over with; I'm not moving from your SUV until I am convinced you can actually focus on our job here."

Bones was impossible to argue with at times like this. Slowly running through the names of saints, he forced his eyes down from her expectant face and slowly panned down her body. For the last few years he'd caught him fantasizing about what she looked like under her clothing, and his imagination had been seriously deficient. And her slow pirouette certainly didn't help. But the sheer clinical nature of the situation and her detached, slightly annoyed attitude helped dampen his ardor.

Dampen, but not much. "Feel free to adjust your erection as necessary, Booth. I presume that is why you wore your baggiest swimwear."

"Bones, dammit!" he protested, but complied.

"It's a perfectly normal reaction, Booth. In other circumstances, I'd be flattered. But here and now, you need to get past that reflex. Perhaps you should mas..."

"No, thank you, Bones. I can control myself adequately."

"It's a perfectly normal act, Booth - despite what your antiquated religious beliefs say. And in these circumstances, it would actually be appropriate, as it would not be in puruit of personal gratification, but in furtherance of your duty and serving a greater good."

"I told you, Booth, I am not doing that here. Not even for God and country."

"If you prefer, I could offer you some assistance in the matter. I have been told that I am quite talented in relieving that condition in a variety of ways..."

Booth finally caught on. It wasn't often that Bones actively teased him, especially so well and in this way, but he'd picked up on enough of her tells. And, he noted, it was having its desired effect. Her aggression, in this context, had embarrassed him enough to cool his passions. "OK, Bones, knock it off. It worked. I think I'm about ready for this. But if we don't nail this guy, I'm going to shoot Hodgins."

Bones rewarded him with a proud smile. "Very good, Booth. Now we need to do just one last thing."

Booth turned to zip up his duffel bag. "What's that?"

As he leaned into the SUV, Bones stepped up and yanked his trunks to his ankles.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Bones, what the hell!" Booth yelled as he grabbed for his trunks.

"We both have to be nude if we're going to have a chance of fitting in, Booth."

"But it's a 'clothing optional' beach. I'm just... exercising my option."

Bones shook her head. "Sorry, but as I said, we need to minimize any attention we draw. And those trunks of yours will draw plenty of attention."

"But... geez..."

"You have nothing to worry about, Booth. From my own past experiences here, and that time I surprised you in your bathtub, I can objectively say that you will be aesthetically superior to the majority of the other males on this beach. You will have no cause for insecurity."

"But..." he flailed. "My keys! I need to bring my keys with me! Bureau protocol says I can't leave the vehicle unlocked, and I can't conceal them on or near the vehicle. If I'm na... nude, I don't have a place to keep my keys!"

Without a word, Bones held up a bright red coil cord. "You're hardly the first person to drive to a nude beach, Booth. I figured you wouldn't think of that, so I came prepared."

"But... oh, hell." He stepped out of his trunks and put them in his truck, then fished out his sunscreen. "Let's get this over with, OK?"

It took them a few minutes to satisfactorily apply the lotion, and Booth reluctantly allowed Bones to cover his back - there are some areas one simply can't reach - and slightly less reluctantly finished the favor. Then, clad only in hats, sunglasses, sandals, towel draped over one shoulder, and coil cords on each wrist (Booth had given her his spare key), they headed down the beach.

After a few minutes, Booth found himself actually relaxing and enjoying the experience. The sun and breeze were very refreshing, and the lack of clothing... almost liberating. He also enjoyed a few quick glances at some of the bathers, but it grew less and less titillating as time passed.

Plus, he could tell Bones was also enjoying herself. She'd already flashed one finger twice, but shaken them both off. And despite her earlier detached manner, she could tell that she wanted his attention. Booth had long been a student of her gait, and he could tell that she had added just a little extra sashay to her stride.

By the time they reached the south end of the beach, she'd signaled a total of three "maybes." She spread her towel and sat down on the sand. Booth, as instructed, passed her and sat down a bit in front of her, then turned to chat.

"No positive hits?"

She sighed. "Three strong possibilities, but I couldn't be certain. One was lying face-down, so I couldn't see any bruising. The other two, I couldn't look closely enough for signs of injuries. That last robbery was two days ago?"

"Yup, Monday. Afternoon, if that helps." He let his eyes wander for a moment. "You know, I always heard that most nudists are the kind of people you wouldn't want to see naked anyway, but it's another thing to see it in person."

"Booth, one of the strengths of the naturalist community is the nonjudgmental nature on body appearance." She paused. "But I will concede that a number of these people are shockingly unhealthy for a populace that claims to believe in healthy activities."

Booth went to check his watch, but the coil cord with his key was decidedly unhelpful at indicating the time. "Man, I wish I'd kept my watch."

"It would have left a rather unsightly pale patch on your wrist." Booth held up her hand to the sun. "But by sun position, the last known time mark from when we left the parking lot, and my walking speed and the distance we traveled, I'd put it around quarter to noon."

Booth shook his head. He was always amazed at the tricks she'd picked up in her years of field work. "So, we stay here for fifteen to thirty minutes, then head back to the truck?"

"Unless you'd like to take a quick dip in the ocean."

Booth briefly considered the thought. "No, I'd rather not risk exposing... certain things to crabs and lobsters and whatnot. Besides, I heard about this one fish that swims right up a guy's..."

"Booth, the candiru is a freshwater catfish that is only found in the Amazon River. Further, the story of that fish swimming up a man's urethra has been disproven as virtually impossible. In fact, the only documented cases of the candiru bodily penetrating a human orifice has been in vaginas, so even if one of them were to have swum down the Amazon, traveled all the way up here without dying from the salt water and cold, and sought out this beach for prey, I would be in far more danger than you."

"How do you know so damned much about that fish?"

"I spent six months in the Amazon basin. Familiarizing myself with the local flora and fauna - especially those believed to be dangerous - was an obvious preparation. It's remarkable how many people actually believe that myth, despite its utter impossibility."

"Just the same, I'll pass."

"I will, too, but for a more practical concern: I would rather not put my sunscreen's claims of water resistance to the test." She lay back on her towel, enjoying the feel of the sun on her front.

Booth suddenly realized he was now face-to-face with... er, face-to-... er, talking to Bones'... lap, he finally settled upon. He quickly rolled over on to his stomach, giving his back a chance to soak up some rays. He folded his hands under his chin and let his mind wander. He could almost get used to this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"All right, Booth, let's head back to the car. I want to see if I can get a better look at those two suspects." Bones stood up, shook the sand off her towel, and casually tossed it over her shoulder.

Booth slowly rose and echoed her movements. He took a moment or two to stretch and gaze out across the water, appreciating the view and the light breeze, before he turned to follow her back up the beach. As planned, he made sure to stay about ten yards behind her and watched her hand. For the most part, at least. Despite all the naked - er, nude - people around them, he still found her casual, sashaying gait and swaying hips most captivating.

There! Another single finger, followed by a signal they hadn't worked out, but was pretty clear. The palm-down, teetering "maybe, maybe not" made it clear she was very uncertain on this one. He glanced up the beach, and thought he saw the guy in question. The dark spots on his hip could be bruising, or a tattoo - he'd need a closer, longer look to be certain, and he wasn't about to try that.

They were about three-quarters of the way back to the parking lot when Bones suddenly extended two fingers, an inverted "V," at her side. Then, as if to confirm it, she curled her fingers into a fist and flashed it three more times. She had no doubt whatsoever she had found their man.

Another ten yards, and she spread out her towel again. This time, she lay on her stomach, head up and tilted to her left - casually facing back towards where she had signaled. Booth put his towel down next to her, this time slightly higher on the beach so he could also look back towards the suspect.

"OK, which one is our guy?"

"12 meters back, three meters behind. White male, mid-thirties, lying on his back. Receding brown hair, sunglasses, moderate body hair, tan lines around the pelvis - not as pronounced as yours, but noticeable. He's lying on his back on a Dallas Cowboys towel."

"Cowboys fan? He oughta go to jail for just that."

"I suspect he's hoping that by tanning his front, he will help disguise his bruising."

"I seriously doubt that. How the hell would he know that it would be a way for us to ID him?"

Bones considered, then nodded. "That makes sense. The average layman wouldn't think of such a thing. Then, perhaps, the warmth of the sun is soothing to the bruises."

"So, you're certain?"

"The bruising is pretty much what I predicted, and the proportions of his limbs is also within the parameters I outlined - in fact, he fits the mean almost perfectly. The odds of one male having both the body proportions and precise injuries are... not worth calculating."

"And you brought along your notes? Carefully dated?"

Bones snorted. "You have to ask?"

"All right, then. I can sell that to Caroline, and she can sell it to a judge. I'll go get my stuff, and be right back. You keep an eye on him."

He stood up quickly, and angrily shook out his towel. "Fine, I'm sorry, I forgot. I'll be right back." And with that he stalked off down the beach.

Bones smiled at his departure, taking careful note of every detail. She knew that Angela would want a full, highly-detailed report upon their return to Washington, and while she would withhold certain details, she wanted to make certain the details she did decide to share were as accurate as possible. She quickly ran through her mental catalog of Greek statuary in the Jeffersonian, and found good matches for Booth's physique, both front and rear. The latter, she'd make a point of sharing with Angela. However, the front view was one she intended to keep just for herself.

As he moved away, she turned her head back towards the suspect. She had to raise up a bit to single him out, but he was still there, supine. He might even be sleeping. And unusual for this area, he seemed to be alone - there was an island of empty beach around him. That should make Booth's apprehension even easier.

She decided that she could get used to this kind of work. Oh, not all the time, as she still loved her lab and going out in the field. But every now and then, the thought of helping catch criminals by lying nude on a sunny beach... that definitely had its appeal. She wondered if there way any way she could justify a "field trip" back here for her and Angela to Cam.

Alternately, it could be fun to invite Booth back here, without a case. Perhaps some weekend when he didn't have Parker...


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Once she saw Booth had identified the suspect, Bones stood and grabbed her towel, shaking it out as she briskly walked back to the SUV. Now it was time to dress quickly and help Booth bring the guy in. She had no modesty issues, but she knew that the suspect would be far more intimidated - and less likely to cause trouble - if they were both dressed while he remained nude.

No, she smiled to herself, he wouldn't be nude. Once he had been removed from the beach, he'd be naked. Naked, in front of both male and female authority figures, with all the sociological implications that carried. This was going to be most enjoyable. In fact, this had been one of the most enjoyable field assignments she'd ever gone on.

Once he was certain Bones was well out of the way, Booth strolled over to the guy and stood over him. "Hey, pal, wanna come with me and have a little chat?"

The guy glanced up at Booth, now clad in his baggy swimsuit. "Sorry, that sort of thing is frowned upon here. Besides, you're not my type."

Booth discreetly flipped out his badge. "And you're not mine, either, but I think you're gonna come with me. FBI."

The guy jumped to a sitting position. "What the hell? Am I under arrest?"

"Nope, I just wanna ask you some questions. Preferably someplace more private."

The man was starting to get belligerent, but his nudity tended to inhibit him slightly. "And if I don't want to come with you?"

Booth shrugged. "We can do this two ways. If you come along willingly, we can swing by your car and you can put on some clothes. If not, I can arrest you, cuff you, and take you in just as you are."

The man considered his choice. "OK, I'll come along. I don't know what you want, but you got the wrong man."

"Then I'll apologize and bring you right back here. Now, let's go. Where are you parked?"

He started to point, but Booth's glare persuaded him to not make any sudden or dramatic gestures. "Back over there," he said, indicating the same lot where Booth and Bones had parked. He reached for the towel, but Booth stepped on the corner. He wasn't about to let the guy flip a towel-ful of sand in his face. "Step back, I'll take this. And take off the sandals, too."

"Why?"

"If you start running, I want you barefoot. You'll get them back, don't worry." He unhappily stepped out of his sandals, then stood back and turned his back on Booth, who quickly tossed them on to the towel and picked it up with one hand, the other hand on the pocket with his gun. "OK, now, head for your car - but take your time."

As they reached the lot, Booth saw Bones heading towards them. Fortunately for both men, she'd slipped her clothes back on.

"Hey, Mr. FBI guy, this pavement's burning my feet."

"OK, here you go." He tossed the sandals to the ground by the suspect. "And behave yourself - that's my partner heading this way. Don't even think of playing any games." He then turned towards his partner. "Hey, Bones." He then dropped his voice so the suspect couldn't hear him. "Still positive?"

"Even more so."

"Good." He raised his voice again. "So, pal, you got a name?" The suspect paused. "Remember, in a couple of minutes, you're going to be showing me your ID. And then I'm going to run it."

"Ron Hyatt," he sighed. "This is my car."

"OK, Ron, here's what you're going to do. You're going to give your keys to my partner, and tell her where in your car your clothes and ID are. She's going to get them out of the car, search them for anything dangerous or improper, and then you're going to get dressed."

"What if I don't want her pawing through my car?"

"Then I arrest you and we head for the nearest police station with you just as you are." Booth smiled. "I'd rather not do that, as it's a lot more paperwork if I formally place you under arrest and later kick you loose, but if that's how you want to play it..."

"Fine. My clothes are in the trunk, my wallet is in my pants pocket with my ID."

"Thanks, Ron. And will my partner find or see anything else she might not like to see?" He paused, and Booth could tell he was debating something. "Remember, Ron - you can tell us about it, or I come back here with a warrant and tear the car apart. So you can save us some time and you a serious mess if you tell us up front."

"There's a little gym bag under my clothes. Inside it is a gun. But I have a permit."

"That's the smart way to play it, Ron. We don't like surprises, and you just saved us from one. That's a point in your favor. What kind of gun?"

"A Glock automatic."

"Loaded?"

"Yes."

"Safety on?"

"Yes."

Trigger lock in place?"

"No."

"Well, that's still not bad. If you have a permit, then you're in compliance with the law. Another point for you, Ron." He nodded to Bones, who was uncharacteristically silent. Now that they were dressed and off the beach, they were back in Booth's world, and she was enjoying watching him control the guy. "OK, go ahead and pop the trunk while Ron and I stand back here a bit."

Inside the trunk were shirt, pants, underwear, socks, and shoes. Bones (after slipping on the rubber gloves she carried everywhere) quickly searched each item of clothing before setting them in a new pile inside the trunk, pulling out the wallet. "Here's the bag, Booth. Want me to take out the gun?" 

"No, I'll check that out. Ron, why don't you stand over there and turn you back for a minute?"

"And let you plant something in my car? No, thanks."

"Ron, you insult me. If I was going to plant something in your car, I'd just do it right in front of you. You're going to say I did anyway, and it'll be your word against both of ours. Whether or not you actually see it doesn't matter. I just don't want you to get any frisky ideas while I might or might not be watching you." Booth relented. "OK, how about this. Bones, put his clothes on the hood and keep an eye on him. While he's dressing, I'll secure the gun." As she moved towards the front of the car, he added a little warning. "And don't get any ideas, Ron. She's tougher than she looks. She knows about seven martial arts, and I've seen her take down crooked cops, serial killers, and Salvadoran gang members. Besides, you're doing a good job cooperating so far; don't screw that up."

As Ron morosely dressed, Booth slipped on his own gloves. (Bones had thoughtfully left a pair on top of the bag.) Inside the bag was just what Ron had promised: a Glock 9-millimeter automatic, fully loaded and safety on, in a holster. Booth removed the clip, removed the round from the chamber, and pocketed the ammunition, then returned the gun to the bag. "OK, your gun's secure, Ron. You dressed?" He looked up to see him putting on his shoes. "Now come back here."

Booth pointed around the trunk. "See? Nothing extra added or taken away. You played it straight with us, we're going to play it straight with you." Booth picked up the wallet. "You mind, Ron? Thanks."

In the wallet were several forms of identification, all in the name of "Ronald J. Hyatt," including a concealed-carry permit. Once he was certain there was nothing improper in there, Booth handed it back to the guy.

"OK, Ron, that's my Tahoe over there. We're gonna get in there and take a ride down the local police station, and borrow one of their interview rooms. And if this is all a big misunderstanding, we'll bring you right back here with our apologies."

"I should hope so."

As they got to Booth's vehicle, Booth sighed. "One last thing, and I'm sorry about this. But regulations say I can't transport a suspect without securing them, so I'm going to have to handcuff you. This does not mean you're under arrest, and I'll take them off once we get to the station, but rules are rules."

Bones smiled to herself. At every moment, Booth had kept the guy in his complete control, merely with words and body language. He'd never had to draw his gun, never even had to threaten to do so - just the very precise use of authority, shaped with positive and negative reinforcement. She watched as Booth helped Ron into the back seat of the Tahoe, handcuffed him, and shut the doors. "OK, Bones, let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Hang on a minute, Bones. I have to make a quick personal call." Booth said loudly as he pulled out his cell phone. He then muttered to her "keep him busy and distracted while I make this call - I don't want him paying too much attention to me."

"How do you expect me to do that now? Back on the beach, I had several contingencies planned out for just that. Now, however, they don't apply. Unless I should get undressed again..."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Just get in the vehicle and... shoot the breeze. Talk about the beach and how much you both like coming here or something." He stepped away and flipped open the phone.

Bones watched him for a moment, then did as he had asked. She climbed into the passenger seat and turned to face the suspect. "Booth is making a quick personal call - it must be important; he never does that. So, Mr. Hyatt, have you been coming to this beach for very long?"

The beach appreciation discussion lasted almost five minutes, with Bones and the suspect discussing why they liked this beach, the pluses and minuses of other beaches they'd visited, beaches they'd like to visit, and whatnot for over five minutes. Finally, Booth climbed into the driver's seat. 

"Everything fine, Booth?"

"Yeah, just... you know, family crap. I'll tell you about it later."

The drive to the police station took about 15 minutes, and was quite uneventful. When they pulled up, Booth helped Hyatt out of the back seat, then removed the handcuffs. "Sorry again, but..."

"Yeah, I get it. Let's just get this over with, OK?"

There was an officer waiting for them. "Agent Booth? I'm Sergeant Flynn."

Booth flashed his ID. "This is my partner, Dr. Brennan, and this is Mr. Hyatt. We'd like to borrow one of your interview rooms for a little while."

"Right this way. But the chief would like a moment of your time first."

"No problem. Let's just get Mr. Hyatt comfortable first."

The officers led them to the interview room, and Booth apologized once more. "Just gotta smooth over the protocol with the locals, Ron. Shouldn't take more than five or ten minutes. You want anything to eat or drink?"

"Just some water, if that's OK."

Flynn immediately offered to take care of that, and then there was Chief Savage. "Agent Booth, would you and your partner come with me to my office?"

In the office, the chief was civil, but blunt. "Here's the information DC sent down for you. But I have to tell you, Agent Booth, it has always been our policy to cooperate with the Bureau. But in return, we'd like a modicum of respect. Normally, we'd appreciate a little more notice before you start operating in our jurisdiction, and even perhaps a little cooperation. I don't care for surprises."

Booth silenced Bones with a quick glance. "Chief, I agree with you completely, and I apologize. But these were extenuating circumstances."

"They usually are. In fact, I can't recall the last time the circumstances were anything but."

"Chief, this is a serious case - multiple bank robberies, multiple people injured."

The chief raised his eyebrows. "The double-tap robberies? This the guy?"

"I don't know yet. To be perfectly blunt, all we have on him right now is he is a solid match for the physical description, he was in a place the suspect is known to frequent, and he carries a gun that is consistent with the one used in the robberies. We came out here on little more than a hunch, and lucked out."

"But still, this is my jurisdiction, Agent Booth..."

"Actually, chief, we found him on the beach on Assateague Island. More specifically, the federal beach. So it's a federal rap, with a suspect on federal property." Even Bones could see the chief didn't like the implications of that. "Of course, I greatly appreciate your cooperation and assistance, and will stress just how essential it was in both my reports and to the press."

The chief nodded. "That sounds more than fair, Agent Booth. Is there anything else we can do?"

"At this point, I can't think of anything. If we can just borrow an office to look over those files from DC, we'll do our questioning and see if we can put this guy behind bars."

Hell, I was heading out for a lunch meeting. Use mine. And if there's anything else, you just let us know." With that, the chief got up and left, handing Booth the files as he passed.

Bones, once they were alone, finally broke her silence. "Booth, I have to tell you, I am very impressed with you."

He looked up from the files. "Huh?"

"You have been very impressive today. First, the way you handled Hyatt on the beach - you got him, one step at a time, to cooperate and come along with us without any fuss or trouble. Then, even I could tell that the chief here was quite angry with you - and in the end, he gave us his office."

He smiled modestly. "All just part of the job, Bones. When done right, police work is a lot more about persuasion than force. Some of the best cops go their entire careers without once having to fire their guns - some never even have to draw them. They know how to handle people." He went back to the files. "Now this is interesting. They managed to collect bullets from two of the shootings in good enough condition for ballistics tests - and they were from Glock 9-millimeters, just like Ron's."

"OK."

"But they didn't match each other, and I'll bet they won't match Ron's."

"That's not good."

"On the contrary, Bones, it makes me think it's Ron even more."

"Now I'm confused. How is it helpful if the bullets don't match?"

"Crooks are creatures of habit, Bones. Our robber uses Glocks because he's comfortable with them. But he used at least two different guns in the robberies. My money says he gets one illegally, uses it in the robbery, and then disposes of it after each robbery."

Bones nodded. "That way, there's no paper trail linking him to the gun."

"It's even better than that. When the cops ask him for his legally registered gun for testing, he can hand it over in full confidence that it won't be a match."

"That's very clever, Booth. Was that part of your 'perfect murder' plot you were working on?"

He sighed. "Can't we just forget about that? Anyway, his shoes are also a match for the suspect's. Almost new, but definitely the same type as our robber's. And this guy's history shows that he's got the brains and background to be our guy. He's got my spider-sense tingling."

"I don't know what that means."

Booth sighed. "I'll explain later. Let's go chat with our boy - and let me do the talking this time; as you said, this is way, way out of your experience."

Bones thought about putting up an argument, but instead agreed. She'd fibbed a little - Booth had started impressing her the instant she pulled down his swimsuit, and had done nothing but impress her since all day. She found she liked it, and suspected that his interrogation would be another exceptional example.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Booth strolled into the interrogation room, tossed the stack of papers on the table, cuffed Ron's wrist to the metal bar on the table there for just that purpose, and sat down with a sigh. "Oh, Ronnie, you've been a busy boy. And a very naughty one."

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Ronnie. You worked out a hell of a good plan here. And it was one only someone with your background could pull off. Six years in the Army as an MP, Marksman with pistol. Five years in private security, specializing in video security systems. Bachelor's in Law Enforcement. You know exactly how bank security systems operate, you've studied what does and doesn't work in bank robberies, and you know how we cops investigate crimes. And you cooked up a way to hit banks that gets you in and out in the minimum amount of time. I could almost admire you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent Booth."

"Ronnie, don't insult me. You know how the cameras work, so you know how to dress and move to conceal your height and weight. You are a good enough shot that you can wound someone with minimal risk of accidentally killing them. And you know that the gun - especially after you've shot it - is almost always the most solid link between the crime and the crook, so you use it once before disposing of it. Making it a match for the gun you legally own is another nice touch - you're very familiar with it, and having a clean gun that is not a match for the one used in the robbery actually makes you look innocent."

"Whatever you're accusing me of, I'm innocent!"

"Like I said, Ronnie, it was a good plan, but not a perfect one. I also liked how you kept buying cheap clothes for the robbery, and trashed them after each bank job. Again, like the gun, it helps keep you away. But you got a little unlucky on Monday, didn't you?"

"Huh?"

"Running into that car was the one thing you couldn't plan for. You lost a shoe - a shoe just full of your DNA, which is on file from your stint in the Army. And more DNA on the car - we impounded it immediately. And we've got a hell of a lot more, too. You think it's just a coincidence that on Monday, all we have is some grainy pictures of a guy completely covered up, and on Wednesday pick you up on a nude beach? You'll see it all when you go up for four counts each of bank robbery and attempted murder. I just talked to the US Attorney's office - they're almost having fistfights over who gets your case. It's such a slam-dunk, an intern could take it into court and send you away for life. Every one of them wants your conviction on their record."

"But... I..."

"You see, Ronnie, that's the problem with smart crooks like you. You come up with a few good ideas, you think you're invulnerable. But what you never understand is that cops like me, we love guys like you. You make us work a little, and we live for challenges. But we never have to work that hard, because you get lazy. You make a few stupid mistakes, and we just roll you up. And just like the prosecutors, bringing you in makes us look good. I mean, I just picked up your case yesterday morning, and now I have you. You, Ronnie, are another commendation in my file, and that will come in real nice for my next review."

"I didn't... I never..."

Four counts of bank robbery, four counts of attempted murder, Ronnie. That's a life ticket. And life in the federal system is not like life at the state level. It means life - no more beaches for you."

"Is there... I mean... can we cut some kind of deal?"

"What do you have to deal with, Ronnie? I know you worked alone. There's no one you can flip to help your case. You went solo, and normally that's a smart move for a crook. It means that no one can rat you out. But now you see there's no one you can rat out to save yourself."

"The guns. I can tell you where I got them."

"That could be helpful, but quite frankly you're a bigger fish than they are. But lemme make a quick phone call and see what I can do." With that, he stood up and gestured to Bones - who'd sat there stone-faced, but utterly astonished on the inside - to follow him.

Once the door was shut, she finally found her words. "Booth, what the hell was that all about? We have no DNA evidence! There was nothing we could get off the shoe, and he never had skin contact or transferred any fluids to the car. And you completely glossed over the real evidence we have! That was a complete fabrication!"

Booth smiled. "Yup. And it worked."

"But... it shouldn't have!"

"Yes, it should. Look, Bones - the way we tracked him down was pure science, but to the average layman it's nothing short of magic. The trace evidence Hodgins dug up could be shot down by any decent defense lawyer, and your identification of him is purely subjective, based on your skills and not on the kind of thing the average juror would never get. It would be shaky as hell in court. But to most people, DNA is the real deal. It is almost magical in its power, and it's seen as infallible. They know DNA from crime shows and Maury Povich, and it's never wrong there.

"Right now, that guy in there is totally convinced he's headed for life in prison, with no chance of anything. I've given him a lifeline, with the possibility of a deal. He's going to jump on that, and jump hard - I just have to close the deal. And I know just how to do that. Remember that 'personal call' I made back at the beach?"

"I knew it wasn't one, but I didn't want to bring it up in front of the suspect."

"Right, it was two calls. The first was to DC, to get this guy's complete file sent down here. The second was to Caroline, to get her consent to offer him a deal. And right now, I'm going to go in there and wrap this case up in a big red bow for her." With that, he went back into the interrogation room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"You're in luck, Ronnie. The prosecutor's a friend of mine, and she owes me a few favors. Here's the deal, and it's on the table right now - take it or leave it. You write up a full confession, including just how you got the guns. You tell us where the money is, who sold you the guns, and all the rest of the details, and we drop the four attempted murders to assault with a deadly weapon. Plus, when it comes to sentencing, we ask for 25 to life. That means instead of every day of the rest of your life of playing hide-the-soap in Poundass Pen, you could get out in less than 18 years. That's the deal."

Ron stared at the table. He was still in shock at how quickly everything had fallen apart. "Can I have a few minutes?"

Booth pretended to consider. He slid a pad of paper and pen across the table. "I'm feeling generous, Ronnie. Take ten. When you're ready to take this deal - and it's a hell of a lot better than you'd get from the jury - start writing. I'll be back in ten minutes to see if you've taken the smart play." He stood again and signaled to Bones.

Back in the hallway, Bones again started talking. "Do you think he'll take the deal?"

Booth checked his watch - it felt good to have it back on his wrist. "He'll start writing within three minutes." He stepped to the adjoining observation room, and spoke to the officer who'd been observing. "Could you give Chief Savage a call, and tell him I've got some very good news for him?"

As the officer walked away, Bones spoke up. "You're assuming that he'll take the deal, Booth. You're showing serious overconfidence. He's not writing his confession."

In response, Booth just tapped his "COCKY" belt buckle. "I got a reputation to live up to, Bones. Besides, I still have 90 seconds left. He'll crack." They stood there in silence and precisely 2 minutes and 47 seconds after Booth made his prediction, Hyatt gave out a choked sob and picked up the pen with a shaking hand. Booth didn't say a word, he just turned his smuggest smile on Bones. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a few more calls to make."

Bones watched, fascinated, as Hyatt started writing his confession. It was amazing. She and Hodgins, working with very little evidence, had managed to find the man quite easily. But Booth had then taken over and, within barely an hour, totally broken the man and wrung a confession out of him with what appeared to be no effort. She thought she had learned a lot about interrogating suspects, but what he'd done here was something she knew she'd never be able to master.

Booth returned, still smiling. This time, though, it wasn't smug, but genuine happiness. "Caroline's about ready to kiss all of us. I've been ordered to take the rest of the week off with pay as a reward for busting this so quickly, and any minute now Cam should be calling you with similar instructions. So, Bones, how's it feel to put a bad guy behind bars without having any dead bodies to worry about?"

She considered it carefully. On the one hand, it was tremendously satisfying to bring justice for those who had been brutally murdered. In this case, it almost seemed like a waste of their time, skills, and other resources when there were still unsolved murders to solve. On the other hand, a case like this was a nice change of pace, without the pressure that came with the usual ones that revolved around death. And solving one so quickly was also quite rewarding. She considered her words carefully. "I would say... I wouldn't want to work on these kinds of cases all the time, it... was an altogether satisfactory experience."

Booth smiled, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. "So, we've got the rest of the week off. Let me go encourage Ronnie to keep writing while you think about that - and take the call from Cam that should be coming through any minute. Maybe we can go back to the beach?"

Before Bones could start to even think about her answer, her phone rang. "Give Cam my thanks," Booth said as he left to go speak with Hyatt. Bones didn't even bother to check the caller ID. "Yes, Cam?"

THE END


End file.
